


Lasting Impressions

by SevenCorvus



Series: Kink Bingo (2013) [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Thorin Lives, Angst, Character Death Fix, Character Study, Community: kink_bingo, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Scars, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenCorvus/pseuds/SevenCorvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo had not been very impressed with Thorin when they first met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lasting Impressions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burning_Nightingale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/gifts).



> Written for The Exchange at Fic Corner 2013 and the "body alteration/injury" square at [kink bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/). Daz and Jules, thanks for all the help. Feedback is love and will be rewarded with cookies (and smut).

Bilbo had not been very impressed with Thorin when they first met. True, the dwarf had sparked his curiosity, and the hobbit had recognized the great esteem the other dwarves had held for their leader, even if he was not sure of the cause. It was only through their travels that Bilbo began to get a better sense of who Thorin was and just why he commanded so much regard.

Thorin was not perfect in any respect. He was stubborn and occasionally rash, but he cared about his people and always tried his best to do the right thing for them. Bilbo might have started out skeptical, but Thorin gained his admiration and loyalty and the hobbit felt comfortable following his lead. He would have stayed that way, admiring from afar and doing what he could to assist the Dwarven king in his efforts, as long as the other man had let him, but events took a turn he did not expect.

It seemed that while Thorin had been aware of his feelings for Bilbo beforehand, the Battle of the Five Armies had convinced him to act on them. The close calls of the fight showing him all too clearly the importance of enjoying what time he could with the things he valued most before they were gone. Despite the many demands on his time from the rebuilding of his city and the alliance with Laketown, Thorin had been determined to make time for his nephews, his family, and to court Bilbo the way he should be.

It was a time that Bilbo looked back upon with a great deal of fondness. There had been rough patches, both with their relationship and with the human city, but they had made it through, their innate determination and commitment to each other keeping them together, when pride and disagreements might have driven them apart. One of the difficulties they had faced was finally reaching physical intimacy. 

For all his confidence in his fighting prowess and his people, Thorin could be insecure about the oddest things. He hadn’t understood how the hobbit could find him attractive, and was uncomfortable with Bilbo seeing his scars, especially the ones he had received in that final battle. It had taken time and repeated reassurances, but Bilbo had eventually managed to persuade him that not only did he not mind, but that he loved his scars.

Bilbo loved the strength that they showed, the experiences that Thorin had had. They proved that this was not a young untempered fighter, but someone who had been through hardships, who had faced the worst, and come out the other side. In truth, they all had scars of one kind or another, but they had served to make them stronger, to bring them closer together.

Thorin’s scars might not have been pretty but they were a part of him, a part of the person Bilbo loved, and they meant that despite their losses, despite everything they had been through, the dwarf still lived, and Bilbo loved them for it. He loved caressing them, feeling them beneath his fingertips, his hand instinctively seeking out the different textures. He loved kissing them, reminding Thorin of his love, and himself to be thankful for what he had. 

It still shook him sometimes, late at night, when the doubts crept in, and fear found him in dreams. He had almost lost Thorin, lost him before he had truly had him, and that hurt almost worse. Not just that the Dwarven king could have died, but that he almost did without knowing how Bilbo felt, without knowing how he loved he truly was. He would startle awake in the dark, and seek out the image of those scars in the bare light, the proof that the events of his dreams were over and in the past, that those wounds had healed, and that strong heart still beat.

It was hard for him to admit that he was still afraid, still stuck in that moment of almost terrible loss. He had never thought he would feel this way, never thought he would find love. But Bilbo had assumed that if he ever did it would be through one of the peaceful courtships of the Shire, not through a realization in the midst of battle that he would not want to live in a world without Thorin.

It had kept him going, that realization, kept him fighting, for himself and for Thorin. They had won, they had survived, yet still the fear remained, in some small corner of his mind, catching him by surprise at its reappearance. Bilbo hoped in time that that would change, but for now he was reassured by the strong body lying beside him, and his hand pressed against warm, scarred skin, still alive, still there.

Bilbo was not unaware that he had his own scars, more mental than physical. He was not the same hobbit who had first set out on an adventure. He had changed into something new, someone new. He was not quite sure what that was, but he thought that he had changed for the better. Some of his innocence might have been lost, but he had gained true friends, true family, and experiences that helped shape him into someone who appreciated the world and what he had in it more, knowing it could all disappear in an instant.

Erebor and Laketown had not survived the years unscathed either, and though it was now a time of peace, the damage was still visible, might always be visible. Not just in the physical ruins, but in the people as well. They looked around with a cautious hope, keeping an eye out for danger, while trying to live their lives. Not that all change was bad. They were more likely to work together, than be at odds, more likely to put differences aside, than lose themselves in petty disagreements. Such things still occurred of course, that was just people’s natures, but there were new priorities now. They went on, they moved forward, together, and did their best to rebuild, to work towards a brighter future.


End file.
